


A Stirring of Glitter

by The Hag (hagsrus)



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, New Year, Older Lads (The Professionals)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28599213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hagsrus/pseuds/The%20Hag
Summary: Written for Discovered in a Box of Baubles Jan 2021 (minor edits)
Relationships: William Bodie/Ray Doyle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	A Stirring of Glitter

"Bloody Pollux knocked them down again," Bodie complained.

"Time we cleared them out, anyway." Doyle contemplated the stack of greeting cards he'd retrieved from the floor. "Do you want your cousin ones?"

"Humorous kangaroos and robins and Santa on the beach. Always the same. Bin them. Are we still keeping that last one from Cowley? Been three years now."

"I like it." Doyle set that one aside, an excellent reproduction of Leonardo's Annunciation, then added several undistinguished cards from his own family to the rejects. "The grandkids?"

They contemplated a painstaking creation comprising half a dozen golden unicorn stickers pulling a too-large Santa sleigh against an elaborately crayoned background of snow-covered mountains framed by an immense sparkling rainbow, carefully inscribed in two different hands _Love to Great Uncle Ray and Bodie from Sally and Liam._ "Damn!" An inordinate amount of glitter was suddenly leaking from the bottom edge of the imperfectly sealed protective folder. "No, get off, Pollux! Grab him, will you!"

"Twinkling turds tomorrow," Bodie predicted. "Hope Janice was right about it being safe. You'd better get Castor before he tries to scoff the rest. Must be tuna flavoured. Shove 'em in the bathroom till we get it hoovered up. Why the hell we ever got lumbered... "

"Your idea, don't forget."

"Oh, right. Nothing to do with Margaret blathering on about how they must be missing poor dear Uncle George and you doing maudlin sniffles over the rescue site every half hour. Twisted round all those fingers, worse than arthritis. Bet the Old Man's been laughing himself silly from the other side."

"Lumbered us with each other, too, don't forget."

"Yeah, well. Joke was on him there."

"Worth the cats?" Doyle suggested.

"Trying to get me saying something sentimental?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

With an exchange of affectionate grins they started the urgent tasks of cat wrangling and de-glittering, working happily with the easy partnership of long, loving years.


End file.
